Its a pretty lovely day today, and I, for the first time in ages, am without a gig on a Saturday. There is part of me that find this terrifying. I’m not used to gigless Saturdays and I’m not quite sure what to do without one. I had one in, but it got cancelled so this spare time has really been sprung on me. What to do? So many endless possibilities? I could go and prance about in the sun, for it is a lovely day and sunshine was made for prancing. I don’t really know what prancing is, but it sounds right to do some when its sunny. I could completely chill out, sit on our patio/garden/bit of dirt and grass area and drink something cold, like a fridge, and perhaps muse on my Edinburgh show that I should write, but today almost feels like a day that work should be shunned. Having the gig cancelled was a sign. The sign probably says ‘wow, you are broke and now even more broke’ but I like to think of it as an indication that I should enjoy today. I could go on the Jade’s funeral procession. However I feel that would be wrong as I didn’t respect anything she ever did being all racist and talentless. Still it will be a nice day for all those in pink tracksuits to walk along on mass. Its highly likely all the polyester will set each other’s clothes alight and it could all go horribly wrong. Fingers crossed then. Sorry that is all unnecessarily harsh, as its sad that anyone died ever. What’s more sad though is that the G20 conclusions have all been swept very quickly under the broadcasting rug so that we can witness a reality TV star still not avoid escaping the cameras while she’s dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had stuck a camera inside the coffin and started a daily highlights TV show. ‘Day 12 in the Jade coffin and it looks like their is dispute amongst the maggots as to who has eaten all the chunky bits.’ I am so going to hell. Luckily I don’t believe in hell. That’s why I haven’t put capitals on the word. Touche.
I’ve already been productive today. I have just returned from my friend Suze’s house where she took some preliminary shots for my Edinburgh poster. This involved me doing some scared faces for a while, then doing zombie faces for a longer while. It appears I am much better at zombie faces than scared faces. The best zombie faces I could do were the ones when I just shut my brain down a bit and leer forward. In fact, it made me wonder why idiots don’t get lots of work as zombies more often. There are people that work in our local Tesco Metro who, with a bit of eye shadow, would look almost exactly like zombies. And speak like zombies. I’m fairly sure that with a name badge zombies could work in Tesco Metro. Should an outbreak of a zombie creating virus ever happen many will probably be able to stay in the same jobs. Suze is now going to mix up the pics and re-arrange so we can see what it will look like and then we’ll do a proper shoot where I will make it look like parts of my face are falling off and fun stuff like that. Part of it will have to be excessive make up and part will be the magic of photoshop. Photoshop is magic. Like proper magic. Paul Daniels can’t work out how it does what it does. That’s partly because he’s a right-wing beanheaded fool, but also because it does real wizardry. “I’ve got a big spot in that picture’ ALAKAZAM! The spot is gone. ‘I look like a big fat heffer’ WINGUARDIAM LEVIOSO! You look like slightly less of a heffer, or someone else entirely. ‘I really want to superimpose my head onto the body of a winged goat’ IZZ WIZZY LETS GET BUSY! There you go you weird horrible freak. I am forever amazing by its powers and I can’t wait to see the final undead finish.
Suze has a proper juicer machine. Its huge and it looks like it probably has attachments in the end so that you can use it to cut down trees or burn crops. Its very impressive, and I’d like one. I was allowed to put all the bits of carrot, apple, lime and kiwi into the machine where a huge fuck off drill churns it all up and puts sheer juicy juice into a tub. Into another tub all the gunk gets squeezed out in a long tube. I mentioned that it looked like what I would imagine Wurzul Gummidge’s turd looks like. Suze said she will never look at it in the same way again. Then the juice tasted awesome and has made me feel fairly perky. Its amazing because I would never willingly eat 3 carrots, an apple, a lime and a kiwi in one go, but I would very happily drink that juice again. I think juicing is the answer to many things as it just concentrates them until it becomes fun. Don’t want to do the washing up? Why not juice it? Don’t want to go to work? Stick work in a juicer! Unhappy with the government? Lets juice them! It might be hailed as overly violent terrorism, but its healthy and good for you.
I found my i-pod yesterday. It was somewhere obvious. Layla found it in the boot of our car. I am rubbish at finding things. FACT.